The Canary Sings a Lie

“Open your mouth, Si‑woo.”
 

Her fingers pinched my cheeks like she owned my jaw.
 

The spoon stopped right in front of my lips. Steam rose, carrying the smell of meat broth and herbs.

I kept my mouth shut.

If I ate quietly in chains, that was it. I’d just taught this bitch that she could keep me in a basement as long as she remembered to feed me.

“I said, open,” Cha Eun‑ha repeated.

“…Didn’t I tell you?” I said. “I’ll eat when you release me.”

I had survived worse situations, but I wasn’t planning to spend this entire life in a basement with Stockholm Syndrome as an end goal.

Her eyes narrowed.

“You’re still saying that.”

“Still you’re refusing."

Her thumb pressed under my chin. 

“Do you think this is funny?” she asked.

“If I thought it was funny, I’d be laughing,” I said. “Do I look like I’m laughing?”

Her grip tightened.

“You haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“You haven’t let me see sunlight since I woke up,” I said. “Maybe, let me get some fresh air.”

“Si‑woo.”

My name came out clipped.

In the silence, my stomach made a noise. Traitor.

I had to be stubborn. I just knew women like her. If I yielded here, she’d slot it into her head as “Oh see, he just needed time; he accepts this.”

Her gaze flicked down, then back up. She exhaled through her nose.

“If you keep this up, you’ll collapse,” she said. “I’m not going to watch that happen again.”

“Again?” I asked. “ Let me guess? Last time I did something you didn’t like, you worked me to death instead of feeding me to death?”

Her lips pressed together.

She didn’t answer.

It's true, then.

“I’ll ask one more time,” she said. “Open.”

I stared at her.
 

Then I stared at the spoon.

Then, because I do in fact enjoy having teeth, I shook my head.

Her nail scraped my cheek.

My jaw twitched open on reflex.

The spoon shot in.

Too hot. My tongue protested. I swallowed anyway, because coughing molten porridge back into her face didn’t seem like a good move.

“See?” she said quietly. “You can eat.”

“Didn’t know ‘force‑feeding’ counted,” I said.

“Call it whatever you want.”

She scooped up a second spoonful.
 

I pulled my head back as far as the chains allowed.
 

“I told you before,” I said. “LET ME OUT!”

Her hand froze.

“…You’re really not going to budge,” she muttered and her gaze sharpened.

“You think you’re in a position to joke with me?” she asked.
 

“I think you’re in a position where, if I pass out and die on your floor, you’ll never sleep again,” I said. “And I like using that.”

Her fingers trembled around the spoon.

There.

She let go of my face. The spoon went back into the bowl with a soft clink.

Eun‑ha straightened her back and sat down on the low stool in front of me, elbows on her knees, looking up.

From this angle, the dragon tattoo creeping up her collarbone peeked out from under her shirt. It made the dark circles under her eyes look even worse.

“You really…” She clicked her tongue. “You’re choosing this instead of just… listening once.”

“Listening to you, put me here,” I said. “Thought I’d try something new.”
 

Her jaw moved.

“I already told you,” she said. “Outside, you’re a traitor with a closed file and too many enemies. In here, you’re safe with me.”

“You keep using that word,” I said. “Not sure you know what it means.”

“Safe from them, at least,” she shot back.
 

“And unsafe from you,” I said. “I don’t see how that's any different.”

She laughed once. It sounded tired, not amused.

“You really want to paint me that black?” she asked. “Is that helping?”
 

“If the shoe fits,” I said. “And the chains.”

Her gaze dropped to my wrists. Red skin around cold metal.
 

“I know I crossed a line,” she said softly. “Don’t act like I don’t.”
 

“Then why are we still here?” I asked.

“Because the alternative is you stepping outside and getting a bullet in the head before you finish your coffee,” she replied. “I’m not handing you over to them.”

“Right,” I said. “Better to keep me where you can see me. Great, it’s all about you.”

Her eyes flinched.
 

“You worked me until I forgot what a weekend looked like,” I said calmly. “No promotion. No raise. Babysitting rookies who couldn’t do anything. Every suicidal raid, every last‑minute change, all dumped on me because ‘Si‑woo can handle it.’”

I used whatever information I had. Only way I could get out of here, was to break her delusion.

“And when I finally disappeared, you signed off on a bounty with my name on it, then stabbed me in the leg and dragged me to your basement.”

Her lips parted. No words.

“Now you’re spoon‑feeding me like a sick dog,” I added. “Tell me again how this is ‘for my sake.’”

Her fingers dug into her knees.
 

“Yes, you are right…I ruined you,” she said.

Huh. That was fast.

“I pushed everything onto you,” she went on. “Because you were the only one who didn’t drop it. Because you stayed when I was nothing. Because you didn’t leave when you should have.”

“And when I finally tried?” I asked.

Her laugh turned sharp.

“You walked into Black Sun,” she said. “That’s not ‘trying.’ That’s putting a sword through my throat.”

“The footage,” I said.
 

“Yes. The footage.” Her eyes went distant for a moment. “Your back, your walk, your sword style. Then, suddenly, our routes leak, our people get hit, our vault looks like a joke. Tell me how that’s supposed to look to me.”

“Like someone who was desperate enough to make you hate him,” I said.

Her eyes snapped back to mine.
 

“What?”

“You’re not stupid, Eun‑ha,” I said. “You just like lying to yourself. If I wanted money, I would’ve left years ago. If I wanted power, I wouldn’t have stayed in your shadow.”

 

I let my shoulders sag, just a little. The chains creaked.

“I wanted out,” I said. “And I knew you’d never let me walk away clean. So I broke my own reputation instead.”
 

She stared.

Breathing a little too fast now.

“You really…” Her voice dropped. “You really thought that’d stop me?”

“Didn’t work, clearly,” I said. “You’re nothing if not persistent.”
 

Her hand lifted halfway, as if to reach for my face, then stopped in midair.
 

“…You left because you were choking,” she murmured. “And I tightened that collar.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

Silence filled the room, heavy and close.

Whatever twisted feelings she had for Si-Woo. I’ve to use her love for him against her as a tool. 
 

“I’m not saying this to win any argument,” I said. “You already decided you’re trash.”

A tiny, strangled sound left her.

“I’m saying,” I continued, “that if we keep pretending this setup makes sense, you’re going to get worse. And so will I.”
 

Her lips thinned.

“You think this is easy for me?” she asked. “Seeing you hang there every day?”

“But, you did this,” I said. “Not the Association. Not Black Sun. You. That’s the part that matters.”
 

She flinched again.
 

Good.

“Eun‑ha,” I said.

She met my eyes.

“I don’t hate you,” I said.

Her expression blanked.

“…What? Then, why?”

“I don’t,” I repeated. “If I hated you, I’d have started screaming the moment I woke up. I’d have spat in your face. I’d have called you things that would make you wanna kill me.”

Her eyes shook faintly at “hate.”

“I’m tired,” I went on. “And angry. And very aware that if we do this your way, I go insane. If we do it my way, we both get a chance.”

She licked her lips, once.

“…Your way,” she said. “Meaning what?”

“Let me up,” I said. “Take me out. Keep me in the guild. Keep me at your side. Whatever you’re planning.”

“You want to go on a date,” she said faintly.

“You said it, not me,” I said. 
 

Her ears turned red.

“Don’t joke,” she muttered.
 

“I’m not,” I said. “You want me where you can see me? Fine. Then put me somewhere that isn’t a war crime. I’ll stay. I’ll work. I’ll… try this thing you clearly want.”

She stared.

“You’ll stay,” she said. “With me.”

“Where else am I going to go?” I asked. “The Association thinks I’m a traitor they already killed. Black Sun thinks I’m a resource they lost. You’re the only idiot who still wants me.”

Her throat moved.

“If you walk out that door,” she whispered, “you could run.”

“If I wanted to run without a plan, I’d have chewed through these chains by now,” I said. “I’m stupid, but not that stupid.”
 

She swallowed a laugh and failed.

Her shoulders sagged.
 

“You’re saying all this now,” she said. “Because you know I’ll listen.”
 

“That’s the idea,” I said.

“If you lie to me—”

“You’ll kill me,” I said. “You’ve made that very clear.”
 

“I won’t stop at you,” she said. “I’ll burn everything between us.”

“I know.”

Our eyes met. 

“So,” I said. “Decide. Basement or upstairs.”

Her gaze slid to my wrists again.
 

Then to the door.
 

Then back.

“…You’ll really stay,” she asked. “If I unlock you.”

“Yes.”
 

“With me."
 

“I’m very attached to breathing,” I said. “And you’re currently the safest option I have. Think about that for a second.”
 

She let out a breath that sounded like it had been stuck in her chest for days.

“Fine,” she said.
 

She stood.
 

The stool scraped softly.

She stepped up to me. Up close, I could see the fine tremor in her hands, the little cut on her thumb from some earlier fight.

Her palm rose and cupped my cheek.
 

The touch was light. Careful. Completely at odds with the chains above my head.

“Don’t make me regret it,” she whispered.
 

“Regret is my specialty,” I said. “But I’ll try to aim it somewhere else this time.”

Her mouth twitched.

She pulled her hand away and reached for my right wrist.

Her fingers traced a sigil over the metal. Warmth pulsed.
 

Click.
 

My arm dropped, blood rushing back in a painful wave. I clenched my teeth.

She moved to the left.

Another sigil. Another pulse. Another click.
 

Both shackles clattered against the wall.

My shoulders ache. My knees wobbled.
 

I staggered.

Eun‑ha caught my elbow automatically.

“Slow,” she said. “You’ll fall.”

“Wouldn’t want to stain your floor,” I said.
 

She gave me a half‑annoyed look, half something else.
 

“One condition,” she said.

Of course.
 

“Let me guess,” I said. “No talking to women, no smiling, no existing without permission?”

She ignored me.

“Outside,” she said, voice firming. “You don’t leave my side. You don’t open your mouth unless I let you. If anyone so much as glances at you, you look at me.”

“Yes, I understand how jealous you can get,” I said.

“Careful, Si‑woo,” she replied. “I can still put the chains back on.”
 

I raised my free hands a little.
 

“Fine,” I said. “We’ll do it your way. For now.”

Her grip on my elbow tightened.

“Not ‘for now’,” she said. “Just… with me.”
 

She turned toward the door.

The heavy locks clanked as she undid them from the inside.
 

The door swung open.
 

Cold, stale corridor air slipped in. It still felt cleaner than the basement.
 

“Let’s go,” she said.

She didn’t let go of my arm.
 

I let her hold on.

For now.